


No place to go

by Luxi_Storyteller



Category: The 100
Genre: F/F, Too many kids, Trans Character, lexa and Clarke married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxi_Storyteller/pseuds/Luxi_Storyteller
Summary: Anya calls with a favor. It’s always a favor but will Lexa agree to Clarke bringing home another kid. They already have five and now there’s six. But Anya is begging and it’s Thanksgiving. How can Clarke say no to a trans homeless kid two days before Thanksgiving?





	1. Chapter 1

“Hello.”  
“Hey, Clarke.”  
“I’m sorry, did I forget our appointment again. We are just down the street and can be-“  
“No, we don’t have an appointment. I’m calling because I have this situation…” I can’t be sure if Anya stopped speaking or I just stopped listening as I lunge for the half filled plate that Emori is about to swipe off the table.   
“No! Eat your food.” I pressed the plate into the wood as though will alone will keep the one year old from tossing it to the Cracker Barrel floor.  
“Clarke.”  
“Yeah, just a second,” I respond. “Trying to get a one year old to eat isn’t exactly the easiest task.”  
Turning back to the chunky cheeks and wide open mouth, I take the chance and push a macaroni noodle in the open space before she can squeal again. “Okay food in hole, you got like a minute.”  
The chuckle through the phone makes me smile. “So my situation is a 14 year old-“  
“We don’t have any more beds,” I state, looking to make sure Echo is still eating the broccoli on the plate before anything else.  
“I know but it’s two days before Thanksgiving and this kid just got disrupted.”  
My chest heaves. There’s always a situation before a holiday. I look back at Echo and then to her 7 year old sister, Tris.   
“Why us?” We have no bedrooms, not even an open bed. Well technically one open bed if you don’t count Raven. I look over at the adult teen coloring on the children’s menu with a half eaten salad next to her.   
“The kid wants LGBTQ parents.”   
“You have more than just Lexa and me. We don’t have a bed.”  
“The kids trans. Can’t look at a group home and I know that you guys…”  
“Can’t say no.” I push another noodle into number 5s mouth. “That’s six. I don’t even have a car that can carry the five and you want me to take a six.”  
“You weren’t my first call.”  
“I feel like I should be offended.”  
“Clarke, I know. I know you have a full house. I know Lexa is already pulling her hair out, but this kid needs you.”  
“The kid or you. You don’t get a bonus do you? Like a trickster bonus for getting us to sign up for another kid.”  
“You know it doesn’t work like that.”  
“I got to talk to Lex, and she’s not here.”  
“The kid is literally sitting in my office and is probably going to sleep here tonight if I can’t place them.”  
“Guilt it thick tonight.”  
“You know you’re my favorite family,” Anya adds.  
“You know you’re sucking up to the wrong wife.”  
“Should I call Lexa myself?”  
“No you suck at this. I’m going to have to bribe her. Like this is going to cost me dishes and diapers for like a year.”  
“Call her. Please. I’ll come and do the dishes if I have to.”  
Octavia studies me. I stare back at her, and just sigh. “Your mother is going to kill me,” I tell her.  
O looks over at Raven and smiles, “You’re going to have to share a room. Clarke’s bringing home another kid.”  
Raven looks up, “what?”  
“Anya, I got to go.”  
“Please, Clarke.”  
“Yeah, I know. I’ll call Lexa and see what she says.” Pushing the button, I look over one through five. “So?”  
“Moms going to murder you.”  
“Shut it or I’ll murder you,” I say pointing my fork at Octavia. Her eye roll is impressive for a seven year old.   
Suddenly she jumps, startling the baby who smiles after the shock goes away.   
“Oh my god! My eye balls came loose!”  
“So princess, you going to tell Lexa.” I glare at Tris and make a note to beat Lexa’s ass for teaching our seven year olds to call me princess.   
With a hand to my head, I take a deep breath. Possibly my last deep breath. “We need a plan.”  
“I’ll sleep in the playroom,” Raven offers.  
“We’ll make room on our bench,” Octavia adds  
“I’ll give up some of my chores,” Tris states.  
“Peeeze!” Emori screams before tossing her plate to the floor with a clatter that turns everyone in the dining room to stare at us.  
I pick up the phone, and type out a message to Lexa.   
“Anya called. Trans. No place to go. Wants homo parental units. Remember it’s Thanksgiving.”  
I have barely hit send and the phone is buzzing. The called is scrolls across the screen: Wife Lexa Trikru.


	2. Chapter 2

~Lexa~

She has the phone in her hand so I know she’s plotting. I called as soon as I read it, so I know she has the phone on her. She always has the phone on her, so I know what she wants.  
“Hey, babe.” She’s plays innocent but we both know how this will go. Like I actually have a choice.  
“Six.”  
“I didn’t say yes.”  
The kids are all talking in the background, and Emori squeals. I miss them. This whole day job thing sucks. I miss them all. Even Echo, and I never thought I’d say that, and I am sure as hell not giving Clarke anymore leverage. That kid makes me second guess this whole thing we’re doing. I know it’s important. I know that this kid is probably fucking lost as hell, and I know. I know why she even sent the text.  
“But you want to.”  
My tires inch forward in vain as her attention shifts to someone that is there. Someone around her, where I’m supposed to be instead of trapped.  
A prisoner in a metal box between other metal boxes leaves me anxiously gripping the wheel. The lane next to me is moving but I’m not moving, stuck behind a fucktard whose music rumbles so loud that it apparently drowns out the incessant click of the left blinker.  
“We don’t have a bed,” I say hoping to get her attention. Attention spread so thinly between her work, the kids, and her ever growing mental tab of groceries, homework, field trip slips, and making sure everyone has one clothes that are cleaned for the morning.  
I can hear her smile. We’ve danced through this before, because there is never a bed but always a kid. “I know. Raven offered to take the play room until we move.”  
“That’s a month away.” I tap my fingers on steering wheel sorting through all the reasons to say no. There are many, five of them spring into my head. Five kids is a lot as it is. She’s doing it basically by herself since I’m always stuck in traffic.  
Emori screams again, and I wish I was there. I miss her. I’m missing so much, and watching everything on video isn’t the same. It’s worse. Seeing her twist and dance before pausing to tell Clarke, “I love you,” and I’m not there. So what they weren’t really the words, it’s still Emori growing up and I’m missing it.  
“Lex?”  
I take a deep breath and realize that my shit life choices doesn’t mean that we can’t buy another fucking bed.  
“Tell Anya she owes us.”  
I’m about to hang up, when she stops me. “Hey, don’t forget Echo has to go to dentist tomorrow for her extractions. They are going to put her to sleep to take them out.”  
I can hear Octavia in the background, “they’re going to put Echo to sleep.”  
“Yes, just a small shot and she’ll stay asleep while they take out her two bad teeth,” she explains.  
“I hope she doesn’t die like the cat.”  
The frankness of my spawns voice makes me laugh. The innocence and yet sinister thought process is almost too much to handle. But just as quick as the amusement comes it flits away and I chalk this down as another thing I missed because people don’t know how to fucking drive.


	3. Chapter 3

~Clarke~

“Babe.” Lexa continues to look at her phone, flipping the station for the seven billionth time since we've been in the car. A whopping 20 minutes. “Babe. Pothole.”  
I watch the road with one hand on the seat and the other on my belt.  
Lexa swerves just barely missing the low profile tire killer. “Could you ever just be a little more urgent?”  
“Could you ever just let me listen to one complete song?”  
We don’t answer each other because we both know the answer is no. Panic for me is a quiet word that goes unheard, and listening to a complete song would mean missing out on at least thirty others.  
I watch a homeless man as we wait at a light. His broken down shoes activated something on the list. “We need to go through the closets and call Talia. She still running that nonprofit right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Toys too. You know my mom bought those kids a whole new bedroom full for toys for Christmas.”  
I can hear her eyes roll. We have rules about presents because Mom has no stop. Rules don’t apply to grandma though.  
“Did you tell her about this kid?”  
I nod.  
We avoid another pothole, and I shake my head. We should’ve taken my car. At least in my car, we don’t have to avoid every pothole.  
“Do you feel weird?”  
I look over at Lexa to find she is actually looking at the road. Like little kids are afraid of lava on a living room floor, Lexa is terrified of potholes.  
“Yes.” This whole interview thing is new. We have always picked the kids up at the DCS office after the phone call. But this is different. Bring home a teenager in a house of little kids can be… well dangerous.  
“What do you want to say?”  
I really have no clue. I couldn’t even ask questions when we spoke with the kid’s behavior health advocate. “I guess what he likes to do. I want to see more of the body language. Gauge the level of fear or even trauma.”  
“Four years in care is a long ass time.” Her fingers are hitting next, but the pandora add beeps an alert. No more skips.  
Flipping on the FM radio, I catch one of my favorite songs. “Touch the button and I’ll let you hit the next pothole.”  
Lexa eyes me, but I take the opportunity and start shaking in my seat. My arms flailing around as I sing as loud as possible. “I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this but it get worse.”  
I watch her look around at the other cars on both sides of us. Her finger going up to close the moonroof as I sing louder.  
“Now payback is a bad bitch. And baby, I'm the baddest  
You fuckin' with a savage!” I throw my hands up, then side to side. Looking out at the guy in the car next to us, I sing , “Can't have this, can't have this And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah.”  
When I turn back to lexa, her face is scarlet, so I lean over as I sing, “ Baby, I'm sorry.” Flinging back to the window, “I’M NOT SORRY!”  
Lexa doesn’t say anything. Her revenge comes with the jerk of the seatbelt as she pushes the pedal to ground and peals away the second the light turn green. It doesn’t stop me, but at least we don’t have an audience anymore.”  
I make it through most of the song before she can’t handle it anymore and flips the station. The gps announces an upcoming left turn, and I know we are almost there.  
“What about you?”  
“Huh?” Lexa looks over at me. “Oh I’m sorry alright.”  
Smacking her arm, I manage to regain control of the center console for my armrest. “I meant the kid. Questions prepared.”  
“History stuff. Future plans. Dreams.”  
“Big guns.”  
The eye roll comes with a a sigh this time. “Look, this is a big deal. Yes, the news seemed good. We may go broke with another Starbucks drinker in the house, but still. The kid sounds like another you.”  
Her comment reminds me of another thing of the list. I reach over and smack her in the arm, a little harder this time.  
“What?!” Lexa half yells. “I didn’t touch the fucking radio!”  
“I just remembered that Tris called me fucking princess at dinner, and I put it on my list to beat your ass for it.”  
Lexa rubs her arm while driving with her knee. “I wish you’d beat my ass.” She mumbles, but I hear it. I hear everything unfortunately, while Lexa could sleep through a fucking nuclear alarm. “Oh, and did you change the smoke alarm battery.”  
Her eyes go wide. There’s no words though. I add it back to the list because she won’t remember.  
As we pull into LoLo’s Chicken’n Waffles, I look over the people on the patio and settle on a tall lanky teen with a uppidy adult. The teen’s shoulders hung and the shoulder length brown hair concealed most of his face.  
We take a second in the car. I flip the mirror down and check that my eyeliner hasn’t left black boogies in the corners of my eyes. I wish the concealer did more for the bags, but I guess they tell truth. I’m fucking tired.  
Lexa takes my hand. Her lips pressing against my knuckles, and it brings a smile to my lips. “You look beautiful, baby.”  
When I look into her eyes, I know she’s tell me her truth. I know she thinks I’m beautiful. “Thanks.” I can’t look at her though because it will start the same old conversation about how I need to see myself as pretty.  
“You ready?”  
She leans back into her seat and takes a deep breath. “You sure we can handle six?”  
“Nope.” I get out though. I get out and walk to number six. We both know that he will be number six, and I just hope he’ll be okay with us.  
That’s the scary part after all.  
“He’ll love you,” she says as she meets me at the back of the car. Her knowing my fears even though I’ve never said it aloud is hard to deal with. “They always love you.”  
“Well, I’m less intimidating,” I remind her.  
She hugs me, and I look up at her jaw. Taking just a moment to see her and let it steal my breath away. God, I love this woman.


	4. Chapter 4

~Jasper~  
“Do you want to start with your questions?”  
Anya means well. She never said that I was going to live with Lexa and Clarke, just that we were going to meet. She should’ve called it for what it was: and interview. I have the little pad that she’s given me Wednesday. Told me to write some questions.   
The notebook flips up rather easily. Clarke’s name scratched into the first page. The questions are dumb. Stuff about things that Anya had prepared me for. She really only had info on Clarke so her page is filled. I flip over to Lexa’s. Three of the same questions but other than that I really don’t know what to say to her. She hadn’t been to giving this far.  
Clarke was my in and Anya had told me that books were her thing. I’ll get there though. Start with something easy.   
Looking into her blue eyes, I start with, “What’s your favorite color?”  
“Blue and green.” She waves her hands a little when she speaks. Like her hands are signing her words. “But I like green the best. It’s the colors of Lexa’s eyes.”  
Glancing at Lexa, as I take notes, I see her cheeks get a little red. She watches her wife.  
“Favorite type of movies?”   
“Dystopian.”  
Favorite type of books?”  
“Dystopian.”  
Maybe that’s why she wears combat boots.   
I work my way down the list as she sips her burgundy tea. Each answer is a little more elaborate. There’s an ease about her though. She’s not straight up like Lexa. Her legs tucked criss cross applesauce in the chair and flamboyant hand gestures makes her seem more comfortable.  
When I ask Lexa the three questions I have for her, I don’t get much. She doesn’t have a favorite color. She doesn’t like to read fiction, and she apparently sleeps through movies. Overall my questions are not something that seems to gather any sort of reaction. Nor did mentioning I’ve already been sexually active or that I ran away to see my mom last summer.   
Lexa looks up at the cloudless sky. Her fingers toy with a folded paper. She’s made a list too.  
“Can I see your list?”   
Clarke grabs it from the table though and puts it in her pocket. Anya had the chance to read it and she answers for Lexa, “They are all questions that they will ask you but not so much in a public place.”   
My lungs empty but forget to refill. This an interview and I have to pass the first test.  
“How would you feel about having younger siblings?” Lexa asks. I realize that she’s the only one to ask questions. Clarke doesn’t ask, just responds.   
“I may get annoyed but I have been in a lot of places that have little kids. I’ve worked in the nursery of my last placement.”  
“Why don’t you tell Jasper about your kids?” Anya suggests.  
“Raven is 19. She’s the eldest and I met her when she was my student. She’s not fostered, just showed up after she turned 18.”  
“She’s ours without being ours,” Lexa adds.   
“She’s reserved.”  
“She’s Clarke’s movie buddy.”   
Clarke’s head nods as she shrugs. “I spent a lot of time cracking her open. She doesn’t let most people in.”  
“Octavia is 7. She’s Lexa’s from a prior marriages.”  
“She’s nosy,” Lexa adds.  
“Basically the opposite of Lexa.”  
“Everyone thinks she’s Clarke’s.”  
Listening to them helps pieces fall into place. They’re opposites.   
“Tris and echo are siblings. Tris is also 7 and is quiet. She is dealing with a case plan change to severance. She’s mad at the world right now. And Echo.”  
Lexa rolls her eyes. “She has a lot of behaviors.”  
I know that word. CPS code for monster child. I know Anya used that word with talking about me. Behaviors of cutting and running away.  
“Echo is 2, going on 3.” Clarke smiles as she talks about the monster kid. She’s my in.  
I stick a piece of fried chicken into my mouth and look Clarke in the eyes as she tells me about the girl. “She can’t talk a lot. Doesn’t process anything well yet.”  
She shoves some waffle into her mouth and chews quietly.   
“Emory is one,” Lexa speaks, filling the silence.   
“She’s fuzzy.”   
Lexa laughs for the first time. It’s light, and I get the first glimpse of possibility. “She’s a terrorist.”  
“She is walking and climbing and loves the sound of her own voice.”  
“My mom always said I screamed to speak with I was a baby.” Lexa looks at Clarke when I bring up my mom again. She’s done it each time, but this time Clarke looks back at her. They seem to connect for a minute, like they can read each other’s mind.   
This is a thing and they won’t like it. So I push a little more. Meeting her eyes again, I tell her a story. It’s not the truth but it’ll hit a nerve. “I learned to love reading from my mom. She loves to read. She reads all the time now.”  
I’m not supposed to have contact. The judge said so after I started cutting. My finger runs over the raised scar over my hand. They had said I did it to release my pain. I went with it.  
Wasn’t the truth though. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell someone the truth.  
“So you’re a freshman.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You have four years until adulthood. What would you like those four years to look like.”  
I take another bite. Buying myself time. Thinking about what the correct answer is to this question. Playing over what Anya has told me about them and what they’ve said so far. Clarke’s a teacher. Lexa was a nurse and now works for a prison. Schools important. That’s the path.   
“I want to stay in one place. I’ve never been anywhere for a year and I’ve been in 20 different schools. I want to have friends and to not have to keep going to a new school. I haven’t made friends at my new school and every time I change the teachers expect me to know things that I don’t because every school is different.”  
I don’t tell them I want a family. It’s easier this way. When they say no, or even yes then no later, I didn’t let them in. I just have to wait a few more years and then I can go live with mom.  
But living with these two wouldn’t be bad. They’re actually what I asked Anya for. I look over at the bitch faced woman. No one would ever know that she really gives a shit.  
Anya glances over Lexa and Clarke. Her eyes soften for them, and I realize that she knows them. She’s has to be their friend, because otherwise she would still have her bitch face on.   
“Well it’s probably time we get going.”  
Everyone has someplace to be but me. I have to go back to the group home, where no one will notice me.   
My chin meets my chest. I don’t want to face my reality. I sit there hoping they’ll say they want to do this again or even better that they want me to come over now.  
They don’t though. They just smile and thank me. Clarke shakes my hand and says, “It was nice to meet you.”   
I failed the interview.


End file.
